A Slight Complication
by Panny
Summary: Hermione made one last request before joining Harry in his hunt for the Horcruxes. Unfortunately that request would have long lasting repercussions for both her and the man involved. FredxHermione
1. Do I Lie Or Tell The Truth?

**Chapter One:** Do I Lie Or Tell The Truth?

She, Harry and Ron had been gone from the Burrow for a month when Hermione first noticed anything was amiss. She'd been repacking her bag just prior to infiltrating the Ministry when she came across the female toiletries she'd brought along. She dismissed her lack of need for them as an aftereffect of stress and left it at that. After all, she thought, there was no way she could be _that_ unlucky.

* * *

After three months she began to worry again. It seemed like every time she had that damned locket on, the thoughts would return unbidden. Maybe she really _was_ that unlucky. Maybe this entire hunt and all the work they were putting in would come to a close over something completely stupid as a last request for a girl who knew she might die.

She forced the thoughts from her mind repeatedly, willing them away. With Ron gone it was only her and Harry now. No, it was all a matter of stress and poor nutrition. It was nothing to worry about; certainly nothing to worry Harry about.

* * *

Another month and she'd gone from worry to full blown panic because now she was sure. Not only was there the obvious sign that she'd been ignoring from the start, but there was the swell to her stomach that certainly hadn't been there before. She knew then that she had to tell Harry before he noticed it himself. For now she could feign ignorance to the point, but once she really started to show… She shuttered at the thought.

They'd been discussing a visit to Godrick's Hollow and Harry had volunteered to take up watch first for the night. She was certain he was thinking of his parents and wondered if that would help or hinder the inevitable conversation she'd been putting off. Family was more important to him than most and she knew he'd be sympathetic to her plight.

She spent a good hour in bed, staring into the dark and trying to convince herself to just go over and talk to him. This was the night, she was certain. It was now or never. Well, no, it was now or tomorrow or the next day until finally she gave up trying and her body made it clear what she was hiding. With a sigh she rolled out of bed and made her way towards his silhouette.

"Hermione, you should be asleep," he reminded her with a firm look.

"I know, but I have to tell you something." She sat beside him at the tent entrance and fidgeted with the hem of her nightclothes. "We have a problem"

Harry's eyes darted out into the dense line of trees before them nervously, his fist clenching around his wand. "Did you hear something?"

"No," she shook her head, "this is more of a... internal problem."

Harry looked her over briefly before nodding and looking away. "You want to go home?" He asked the question bluntly, as if he'd been expecting her to say so from the start. It was obviously something that had been worrying him.

"Maybe, but not for the reasons you think." Taking note of his somber expression, she reached to take his hand. "When Ron and I decided to go with you, we knew the risks involved. Both of us agreed to come knowing that we might not make it back. Ron left because he couldn't handle it, but not me. I'm still here because I want to be to the very end. But something has changed and... I can't make decisions like that now."

"Hermione, what is it?"

"I," she faltered, turning away to look back out into the trees. She could keep pretending and as long as she never said it aloud, it might never be real. She wanted so much for that to be true. To close her eyes and wake to find it had all been some awful nightmare. He gave her hand a squeeze and finally she found her voice. "Harry, I'm pregnant."

Harry looked like he might choke as he fumbled for a response. "You, you're... Are you sure?"

"Pretty. I mean I can't exactly run out to buy a test, but it's been months since I, well since I got..." she grimaced at the awkwardness of the conversation and finally decided to take a more clinical approach. "I haven't menstruated the entire time we've been out here. But here, you tell me if I'm imaging things."

She placed his hand on her abdomen and knew when he'd felt the slight curve, his thumb moving back and forth as if to test its validity.

"Have you told Ron?"

"No. I wasn't sure before he left. Even if he was here I'd be afraid of how he'd take it."

"It can't be that bad. He'll be shocked for sure but I think he'll be happy once he gets used to the idea."

"How could he be happy when-" she froze, realizing her friend's misconception. "Oh Harry, it's not Ron's."

Harry's eyes widened perceptively and he offered a weak smile. "Sorry, I just assumed."

"It's okay. Most people do. And maybe after all this was over we might have gotten together, but now…" She trailed off, not wanting to waste any more time thinking about what-ifs. That's all she and Ron were after all; a boy and a girl constantly at each others throats, with an underlying tension that _could_ have gone somewhere. Or it could have been nothing.

"So whose is it?" Harry asked, startling her out of her reverie. She frowned deeply. This was the part she was most afraid to reveal. Not that she felt it was a bad choice, but more for how it complicated things.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Harry offered.

"It's not that. Well it sort of is." She cast him a sidelong glance. "It was Fred."

"Fred?!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes wide. Whatever names he may have been guessing during her silence, that obviously hadn't been one of them. "Are you two...?"

"No, not really. I mean we've kissed and things on a few occasions, at parties and the like, but we weren't an exclusive couple or anything."

"So how?" It was obvious that he was trying to wrap his head around Hermione the prefect getting knocked up by one of Hogwarts' most notorious rule breakers. "Was it... I mean did you want to? He didn't...?"

"Goodness no!" she exclaimed, surprised Harry could suggest anything so vile of any of Ron's brothers. "Of course not. No, I asked him."

Harry remained silent so she offered the further explanation he was obviously waiting for. "I knew there was a chance that we might not survive. Like I said, I'm okay with that. I just didn't want to have any regrets. I thought, if I was gonna die, it wouldn't be as a virgin." She gave a shy smile and looked away, feeling awfully embarrassed at having to admit her thinking at the time. "Fred was the only guy I'd ever felt anything... physical towards, so I asked. He actually said no first. He didn't want me to regret it. I told him that being with him was something I'd never regret. Although in hindsight..."

"Where are you going to go?" Harry asked quickly, pushing the conversation to less personal matters.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Suppose we'll figure it out in the next few weeks."

"Weeks?! Hermione, you're pregnant. You can't stay out here. You need to see a doctor and take vitamins and things. We barely eat out here. Never mind everything else we've gone though."

"I know, but you need me-"

"No! Hermione, you have to go."

"Harry, I can't! You're all alone right now." She pleaded with her eyes, frustrated that it looked like he wouldn't back down. "At least let me come with you to Godrick's Hollow and we can figure it out from there. I still don't think it's a good idea and if you insist on going, I'm coming with you."

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped, obviously weighing his options. She knew how desperately he wanted to visit the home he was raised in by his parents and she felt awful using that to her advantage but there was just no way she could leave him now.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	2. The Way That Old Friends Do

**Chapter Two:** The Way That Old Friends Do

As anticipated, telling Ron had been far more difficult than telling Harry. He'd ranted and stomped and fumed for a good half hour and that was _before_ she told him who the father was. After that he had simply refused to talk to her, the two of them performing a slow and annoying dance of cat and mouse, Hermione sitting beside him to talk, followed by Ron standing to move elsewhere until finally Harry shouted at them to stop. Ron had been back for less than two days and already it looked like he would storm off again.

Nearly a full week passed before Ron finally approached her, looking as if he were going to be sick. Hermione didn't miss the way he glanced at Harry awkwardly before finally sitting down next to her.

"Are you in love with Fred?" He asked bluntly.

It was a question laden with so many other worries and suggestions behind it that she was afraid to give an answer. Saying yes would put a stopper in his line of questioning, but it was also a lie. Telling him the truth however opened up the door for things she truly did not want to discuss. Having Ron finally pluck up the courage to discuss their relationship while she was pregnant with his brother's child was not a situation she fancied.

"No, I'm not," she finally told him after hesitating as long as possible. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but stopped, seeming to reconsider for a moment.

"Then why?"

"Ron, I'd really rather not get into that."

"Why not? I think I deserve to know."

"Why? What business is it of yours who I sleep with?" She knew she was being abrupt and cold with him but she was tired of always dancing around the issue only to have Ron blow up when things didn't go his way. This was like Viktor Krum and the Yule Ball all over again and she didn't think she could take it.

Ron glared at her angrily. "Fine! You can go shag a dozen Death Eaters for all I care! Maybe I'm concerned about my poor brother who's gonna have to put up with you for the rest of his life!"

"Well, you can save your consideration for Fred since he doesn't even know, you idiot!" Tears burned her eyes and she wiped them away furiously. "He probably won't even care and then I'll leave so poor little Ron won't have to think about the fact that his _friend_ had sex once."

"Would you two stop it?!" Harry shouted abruptly. "Ron, Hermione slept with Fred. It happened and there's nothing you can do to change it. Hermione, stop acting like you don't know why Ron is upset."

"I know why he's upset," she replied snidely, hating the way she sounded even as she said it. "I just wish he'd either do something about it or give it up."

"Don't expect me to do anything about it now," Ron muttered.

"That's a real good attitude Ron."

"Oh stuff it Hermione. You knew I fancied you and you still went after my brother. And don't think Harry hasn't told me it was you who instigated things."

Harry blushed and looked at her apologetically.

Ron scuffed his foot across the ground, leaving a trail in the dirt. "You could have asked me you know."

"Ron…" Hermione bit her lip and stared at one of her dearest friends while Harry quickly excused himself back into the tent. "Look, I know things have been complicated between us for a while, but if we don't address it now I don't think we ever will and no matter what happens, I don't want to lose my friendship with you."

* * *

In the end she and Ron decided that, if the two of them had a moment, it had already passed, which wasn't to say that the conversation was easy. There was a lot of arguing and crying and hugging and one awkward moment where they attempted to go in for a kiss and both decided half way that it just wasn't happening.

After their long and embarrassing heart-to-heart, Ron completely switched from his jealous and angry state to one of concern and protection which was both good and bad. While she was grateful that he was being mature about the situation and hadn't run away again, her friends could be incredibly obstinate. Both he and Harry were adamant that she needed to leave and stay at the Burrow, but as appealing as it sounded, Hermione knew it just wasn't that simple.

The Weasley's were only safe because they seemed to have cut ties with Harry Potter and any and all muggles. If Hermione were to be seen there it would put them all in danger and she certainly was not willing to do that. She also had to consider the needs of their mission and the safety of the two most important people in her life. Harry would have died in Godrick's Hollow if it weren't for her, and she was certain there was more to the Hallows than they'd figured out. There was no way they could make it without her.

Winter carried on its long march towards spring and as the days went by the trio's frustration grew along with Hermione's stomach. She had taken to wearing Ron and Harry's shirts but as the two were both thin and lanky, they weren't much better than her own and she was stretching them all out of shape. Ron stared at his ruined Cannon's t-Shirt and gave her a look that told her clearly what he was about to say.

"Hermione, you can't stay out here."

He and Harry made sure to remind her of that fact on a near weekly basis until the entire conversation was memorized and repeated verbatim each time.

"You know very well that there's nowhere safe for me to go and you both need me here."

"Fine. Just make sure you eat plenty. I'll give you my second helping."

Ron's willingness to give up food for her was perhaps the ultimate example of the love the three of them had for each other. The boys really were doing all they could to make things easier for her and she was eternally grateful. She had done very little reading about pregnancy since it was something she intended to hold off on for a few years, so they really were kind of winging it.

She ate as healthily as possible, made sure not to lift anything heavy and tried to get plenty of sleep. Beyond that though she gave her pregnancy little thought, far more concerned with figuring out the locations of the remaining horcruxes and maintaining their safety. It actually bothered her a little that her primary thoughts of motherhood were that her stomach was really starting to get in the way, and that the baby must be feeding on her brain cells because even Ron seemed quicker on the uptake as of late.

Hermione reassured herself that she really had far more going on than most expectant mothers and she couldn't expect to be knitting booties while deciphering fact from fiction in the story Mr. Lovegood had told them. Most women planning on buying baby clothes weren't concerned with what the father would say when he found out, or if there would still be a war on when they delivered. But as much as she tried to convince herself that those motherly feelings would come in time, she still worried that maybe she wasn't cut out to be a mum.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	3. I Want You To Know, But Then Again I Don

**Chapter Three**: I Want You To Know, But Then Again I Don't

Hermione felt what was perhaps her first maternal instinct when they were being held in Malfoy Manor. Fenrir Greyback was making it very clear that he'd like to take a nice bite out of her and her first thought was not for her own safety, but to question the effect it might have on her child.

Bellatrix Lestrange ordered them all to the dungeon and Hermione thought it might offer them enough of a reprieve to figure out a way to escape. That fleeting glimmer of hope died quickly however as the deranged woman amended her order. "Wait. All except... except for the Mudblood."

Hermione's blood ran cold and she watched her friends struggle in vain, Ron offering himself in her stead, and she couldn't help crying over his volunteered sacrifice as they were dragged away.

"Bellatrix, don't!" Narcissa Malfoy shouted from the corner where she cowered near her son.

Bellatrix rounded on the feeble looking woman, pointing her wand at her without a second thought. "You always were the weak one, Cissy."

"But, she's with child! You can't."

Bellatrix sneered. "Filthy blood in her veins. It'll be a benefit to society. My Lord will be pleased to know I stopped another from being brought into this world."

Tears filled Narcissa's eyes and Draco looked like he was going to be sick. Their pitying looks were the last thing Hermione saw before the pain struck her.

* * *

Hermione knew she had managed to lie about the sword of Gryffindor being a fake, but she could recall little else when she woke, her entire body aching. Ron was asleep in a chair next to her and she could hear voices down the hall. She had no idea where they were, but it felt safe and the bed beneath her was more comfortable than anything she'd slept on in months. She attempted to stretch and groaned as pain shot through her entire body. Memories of the Cruciatus Curse flooded her mind and she cried out, startling Ron.

"What is it?" He jumped up, standing at her bedside. She quickly shook her head.

"Nothing. Just… remembering. I'm fine though, really." She reached to take his hand, smiling up at him. "I wanted to say, you were very brave there, when Belltrix took me. Thank you."

He blushed and looked down at her watermelon of a stomach. "I would have done it anyway, but in this case I figured there were two of you so…"

She nodded, smiling gratefully. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah… Well mostly. Dobby, umm… Dobby didn't make it."

"Dobby?"

Ron explained everything that had occurred in their escape and together they made their way outside to pay their respects with everyone else, saying goodbye in the early morning sunlight.

* * *

Hermione spent the next few days recovering, Harry and Ron often joining her to discuss their plans. It was made quite clear by the both of them that, with the rest of the Weasley family going into hiding, she had no excuse for not going to stay with them.

Harry was debating how best to approach Griphook in the early afternoon of their third day in Shell Cottage when Bill entered, clearing his throat loudly.

"Uh, Harry? Would you mind stepping out for a few minutes?"

Harry looked to his friends in confusion but nodded and left. Ron and Hermione both sat on the edge of the bed while Bill pulled up the chair in front of them.

"This is really awkward," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I actually asked Fleur to talk to you since she's better at these things but she thought it should be someone in the family." He sighed and gave them a pitiful smile. "Mum would kill me if I didn't say something though so… Okay. It's obvious you two have... begun to express your love physically." He indicated Hermione's stomach and they both instantly shook their heads.

"No, we haven't-"

"Ron," Bill cut him off, rolling his eyes, "if you're caught snogging in the shed you can talk your way out of it. But the evidence here-"

"It's not that," Hermione offered. Bill began to speak again and Ron interrupted quickly.

"It's not mine. I mean we've never..."

"Oh." Bill went extremely red in the face and he stood quickly. "Right then. Not my brother's; not my place to say."

Hermione face crumbled and she felt a rush of heat as her cheeks flushed.

Ron smiled at his brothers unintentional faux pas. "Actually if you could round up Fred then you can finish what you were saying."

"Ron!" Hermione had been hoping Bill would leave things without asking more questions, but that was impossible now.

"It's Fred's?" Bill asked incredulously, returning to stand in front of them. Hermione nodded. "Of all the irresponsible... He's at Aunt Muriel's. I'll get him."

Both Ron and Hermione glanced at each other anxiously until Ron suddenly jumped up. "Wait! Bill! He doesn't know!"

Ron chased after his brother and returned moments later to tell Hermione that Bill had gone to get Fred. She nodded mutely and he quickly left her to her thoughts.

Fred was coming and in no time at all he would know that she was pregnant. She had no idea how he would react to that. Coming from such a large family, she didn't think having children was something he'd be against, but she was certain he wasn't looking to start a family with her. They'd had a casual… thing that she couldn't even put a description to. More than a fling, less than a relationship.

She was lost in her thoughts for some time before the sound of the front door slamming shook her from her reverie. She stiffened in her seat, the final hurdle she had to face rapidly approaching.

"Damn it Bill!" Fred's voice resounded down the hall. "You can't just drag me over here and not tell me what's going on. Has something happened?"

"I told you Fred, just calm down."

"Calm down? You wouldn't tell me anything for the entire walk from the wards and my patience is wearing thin."

"I just wanted to wait until we were safely inside. It's Hermione, mate."

"Hermione? Is she okay?" It was a small relief to her that he did at least sound concerned.

"Depends how you look at it," she heard Ron reply sarcastically.

"Come on, don't answer like that. She-" There was a long pause. "Why am I the only one you brought? Shit, she's not..." Hermione could hear a slight tremble in his voice, followed by Bill's curt reply.

"Dead? No. Although I suppose that and this are the only things that would get her to confess that you were shagging her."

"Shagging? I wasn't... Okay, one time. And _she_ asked _me_ so don't give me that look. I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Ron?"

Hermione could hear footsteps and then Ron appeared in the doorway, beckoning her to follow. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as she approached, and led her to the sitting room where Fred was still demanding answers. She drew her hands up to rest on her stomach instinctively and stepped into the room.

She knew the moment he had seen her since the room fell completely silent, followed by a muttered "sweet Merlin." In the next moment he was before her, looking at her imploringly. She merely nodded in answer to his unvoiced question and his arms came around her swiftly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't. By the time I realized, we had already lost Grimmauld place. It wasn't safe."

"But you... Are you okay? Is it?... Them? Umm, is he or she okay?"

"I think so. We just got here so I haven't been seen by anyone yet."

"Hermione, you're months along. This is crazy."

"I know, and I'm sorry Fred. I never should have put you in this position. It's entirely my fault." She sniffed as a tear slid down her cheek and he moved to wipe it away, surprising her with the tender gesture.

"Don't. You've been through enough as it is. St. Mungo's is still running. The Order and the Ministry both have people on guard there and there haven't been any attacks. It's a bit of a standoff. Anyway, I'll take you there myself, and then you can stay at Aunt Muriel's."

"But Fred-"

"No buts! And I certainly don't want to hear you saying you intend to go back out there."

"No," she shook her head. "We already discussed that. Ron gets to carry my purse," she added with a weak smile. The smile he gave in return was just as wan.

"I hate to interrupt," Bill cut in, drawing their attention to the fact that there were others in the room; namely he, Fleur, Ron and Harry, "but we still haven't quite addressed this Hermione being pregnant issue."

"Can't we just say it's something that happened and not mention it again?" Fred asked hopefully.

"That's fine by me, but you have fun explaining everything to Mum and Dad."

Both Ron and Fred cringed. "Good point."

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	4. I Wanna Find A Hiding Place

**Chapter Four:** I Wanna Find A Hiding Place

Hermione chose to stay at Shell Cottage for another week to help Ron and Harry work on their plan. Aside from one nerve-wracking trip out to St. Mungo's where she was chastised for not coming sooner, she hadn't been outside at all. She also hadn't seen Fred again, though she couldn't blame him after the awkward experience they'd had at the hospital, trying to explain their situation.

They'd agreed to hold off on telling anyone else of their predicament until she'd gone to live with the rest of the Weasley's, thinking it would be easier for them to accept with a very pregnant Hermione to gush over.

She was dreading having to tell the Weasley's of her predicament but at the same time she was glad she'd have someone to talk to, mainly to make sure she was doing things right. Fleur had been of little help and it was becoming more of a concern to Hermione. Going by the way she felt, things seemed to be okay. She'd been lucky for the most part, having dealt with very little beyond a slight morning sickness that seemed to have settled, and a general feeling of malaise that had her grateful for the forced rest ahead of her.

The day she was to leave, Bill handed her a slip of paper revealing the location of his great-aunt's house before the two headed out. On the way, Bill told her what he knew of the situation and Hermione was somewhat surprised to learn the number of people living at Aunt Muriel's house. Not only were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley there with Fred and George, but a number of cousins, aunts and uncles were gathered there as well. Apparently the entire clan had been marked as blood traitors and were all seeking refuge. She had even agreed to take in poor old Olivander.

Fred was waiting for them at the edge of the ward limits. Citing a need to get back to his own home (and not denying not wanting to be there for any potential blowups), Bill left immediately, leaving Hermione alone with the father of her child. It was strange to think of him like that and she pointedly told herself he was still just Fred.

"Have you told anyone?" she asked, hoping against all odds that he'd let it slip and her arrival would go smoother than anticipated.

"Only George. If things go too badly he's ready with a number of distractions."

"Distractions?"

"We brought a bunch of products from the shop with us. Figure we can still keep up the owl business for now. Couple of detonators and everyone will forget about you and junior."

Hermione nodded and they walked silently until Fred drew his arm around her shoulders.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit nervous. Your mum and dad are almost as close to me as my own parents and… Oh god!" Her legs gave out beneath her and she fell to the ground, Fred barely missing catching her. "My parents… I hadn't even thought… When I fix their memory I'll be… I'll be a mum! Forget _your_ parents; mine are going to kill me!"

"Hermione, it's okay," Fred reassured her, helping her up off the grass and offering an encouraging smile. "Please, just don't worry about that for now. We have to take things one thing at a time, and I'm sure they'll understand. Now come on."

He kept his arm around her as they walked past vegetable patches and gardens until finally reaching the entrance to the house. With one last squeeze he opened the door and led her into the dark house.

Aunt Muriel's house lacked any of the warmth of the Burrow, every item in the house sitting in its proper place with nary a spec of dust anywhere. It was like a museum with various portraits and knickknacks all placed just so and daring anyone who entered to muss them up. Little light came in around the dark drapes and it gave everything an eerie feel. From what she could tell the house was rather large, the Prewett side of the family obviously better off financially, but it hardly felt like a home.

Fred gestured down the hall and they made their way into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley caught sight of them right away.

"Hermione!"

She drew her up into a hug immediately, exclaiming about how good it was to see her and what a surprise and how is Ron before pulling back sharply. She looked down at Hermione's stomach and drew a hand to her chest. "Arthur!" she called into the next room. "Arthur, come here!"

Mr. Weasley entered the room and immediately saw the source of his wife's hysteria. "So you're the one who was coming. Am I to assume," he questioned, coming to stand beside her, "that Ron…?"

Hermione hung her head. That assumption seemed to make this harder no matter who she was talking to.

"No, it's mine," Fred answered bravely, saving her from coming up with a response.

"You?" Mrs. Weasley's expression seemed to shift between anger, delight, confusion, frustration and concern. When she failed to muster anything more to say she sat in one of the kitchen chairs, looking wordlessly between her son and Hermione.

"Come, you two," Arthur offered much more calmly, indicating that they should sit. They took chairs at the opposite end of the table, still fearing Mrs. Weasley's wrath. "Hermione, you must be starved."

Hearing this, Mrs. Weasley stood and moved about the kitchen as if on auto pilot, putting together sandwiches and a bowl of soup to offer Hermione. She took the proffered food nervously and finally the elder witch smiled. "Oh, dear, don't worry. It's just a bit of a shock is all. Didn't even know the two of you were… involved with each other. I'll be having a stern talking to with Fred when this is all over but you have enough to worry about. Now eat up."

Hermione bit into her sandwich, doing her best to not laugh at Fred's anxious expression. She gave his hand a squeeze under the table but it did nothing to change his pale complexion. Unfortunately his mother saw the gesture and her carefully maintained composure broke.

"Fred Weasley, you unhand that girl right now!" she snapped, rearing up to her full height. Hermione was glad she no longer held the knife she'd been using as she prepared lunch.

Fred snatched his hand back as if suddenly burned. "Mum, I wasn't!"

"You've done enough touching for a lifetime!"

"I didn't even touch her-"

"Then explain why I have a grandchild coming!"

"I didn't mean that, I meant n-"

"No excuses, young man! I think it might be best if we sent you to Bill's while Hermione is here."

"Mrs. Weasley, don't!" Hermione jumped up, an unexpected pang of panic setting her heart pounding.

From down the hall a loud explosion echoed, a cloud of purple smoke wafting in to the kitchen.

"_George_ Weasley, you get in here right now!"

Fred attempted to pull Hermione out the other door but his mother turned to them without a second's pause.

"Don't you dare. Don't think I don't know that you put your brother out there. Honestly! Plotting against your own mother."

"Aww, Mum. Don't look at it that way." Fred cautiously approached his mother, throwing an arm around her. "I was just looking to protect Hermione."

Mrs. Weasley glared at him and he backed off. "You should have thought of protecting her before you got her pregnant."

"I know." He nodded firmly, glancing over as George trudged in. "I'm not stupid Mum, I know I messed up."

"That's not fair, Fred," Hermione cut in weakly. "It was me that-"

George nearly tackled her, quickly straightening them both with a grin. "Sorry, tripped." He winked in Fred's direction as Arthur approached Molly.

"Sweetheart," he soothed. "Perhaps this is a conversation to have after everyone has calmed down. Why don't we eat?"

The three teens dropped into their seats, Fred and George briefly fighting over Fred's sandwich before Mrs. Weasley dropped another plate on the table and they all began to tuck in.

After they had eaten their fill, Mrs. Weasley led Hermione to a nearby sitting room, leaving Fred behind to presumably talk with his father. They sat and Hermione fidgeted nervously. An elderly witch whom she immediately recognized entered the room and sat by the fire. After a moment she turned to face them.

"Ah you, the one with the skinny ankles." She looked down at Hermione's abdomen with distain and sighed. "Even more Weasley's on the way I assume. Honestly you'd think _one_ generation might take a break."

"That's quite enough Aunt Muriel," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, obviously trying to maintain a congenial attitude.

"Nonsense. Girl her age gets knocked up then she's gonna hear about it."

"Aunt Muriel, please…"

"Really, in my day a girl didn't kiss until she was of age, never mind what those kids of yours get up to."

"Aunt Muriel that's enough! Now I am extremely grateful for your letting us stay here but Hermione is a guest as well and I should expect you to treat her with respect. The two of us have things to discuss so unless you have anything helpful to add, I'll ask you to leave."

"Got a backbone in there, do you Molly? Honestly, house full of her offspring and the like and she tells me to go," she muttered, wandering from the room as if she could care less about being there in the first place.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, shell shocked from the verbal spar she'd just witnessed.

"It's alright dear. That old witch has it coming to her. Honestly." She turned to smile at her. "But enough about that. How far along are you dear?"

"Umm," Hermione counted off the months in her head. "About eight months."

"Goodness, that long? Have you been taking care of yourself dear? All the right potions and things?"

"Well…" She really didn't want to admit to her disregard for her pregnancy earlier on. At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do but in retrospect it could have been a terrible mistake. "I went to St. Mungo's the other day and they gave me some things which I've been taking."

"That's good. And how are you feeling?"

"Not bad really. Just really tired and, well kind of like my brain's half shut off if that makes sense."

"Oh absolutely!" Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Sometimes I thought the kids were sucking my mind right out of me. I'll tell you I couldn't do add two and two when I was pregnant with Percy."

Hermione sighed with relief, glad her visions of her baby feeding off her brain with a straw weren't all that abnormal.

A fair amount of time passed as the two discussed general pregnancy woes as well as what precautions Hermione should be taking for the last few weeks. The sun had already set when Fred came to find her, offering to show her to her room.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked, once they were out of earshot. She honestly did feel bad that Fred was the only one getting a lecture over all of this.

"Not too bad. You know how my father is; doesn't fly off the handle anywhere near as much as Mum. He basically wanted to make sure I was going to be responsible about the whole thing."

Hermione bit her lip, but said nothing. She had no idea how "responsible" he was planning to be. Right now he was making sure she took care of herself and seemed eager to help, but what about after the baby came? When the war was over and they were no longer forced to live in the same house. Would he be that father who only came by every other weekend? Who sent extra money with each birthday card to make up for never being there?

"We're a bit packed," Fred told her as he led them upstairs, interrupting her thoughts. "The only reason George and I have our own rooms is because we're excellent gamblers. You can have my bed and I'll share with George."

She looked at him curiously for a minute before responding. She felt bad enough inconveniencing Fred and she didn't want to put his brother out as well. "Fred, you don't have to do that."

"Don't worry about it. We had to share a bed the first few nights and it was no big deal."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He gave her a reassuring smile as he opened the door to one of the second floor bedrooms. "The décor isn't exactly my style, but it'll do. Bathroom is right down the hall."

"Thanks."

Fred left her to put away her things and she settled in to the room quickly, having brought very little with her. The call for dinner came sooner than she'd expected and she quickly went down to join the family in the crowded kitchen.

An awkward silence pervaded the room and the food disappeared quickly as people sought any action to ease their discomfort. Having eaten her full, Hermione found herself eager for bed. She took a quick bath at Mrs. Weasley's assistance, and changed into a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt, frowning when she was unable to stretch it over her belly.

"You look ridiculous," Fred told her when she entered her bedroom. She jumped, not expecting him to be there.

"Yes, well I can't exactly run to the shop for maternity clothes, can I?"

"Suppose not." He crossed the room to begin ruffling through a duffel bag on the floor. "Here, you can wear this."

He tossed a shirt in her direction and she barely caught it, not expecting random garments to be flying through the air. "Wait here," she told him, slipping off back down the hall to the bathroom where she changed. Thankfully Fred and George were a bit stockier than Ron so the shirt fit far more comfortably. It had obviously been worn frequently; she could barely make out the faded Weird Sisters logo on the front, and the fabric was worn and soft. It was probably the most comfortable shirt she'd worn in months.

She padded back to the room and blushed when he caught sight of her, staring openly.

"Does it look bad?" she asked, knowing a worn out girl with frizzy hair and a giant stomach was hardly the most attractive thing in the world.

"No," he answered quickly, his eyes never leaving her. "You look, well, cute."

She blushed anew and speedily made her way into the bed, pulling the blanket over her self consciously. "What are you doing in here anyway?" she asked, hoping to pull the conversation away from her appearance.

"Just grabbing my clothes," he explained. "You gonna be okay in here by yourself?"

Hermione frowned. "I've spent the past eight months living in a tent on the run from Death Eaters. I think I can handle being alone in the dark."

Fred gave her hair a quick pat before walking away. "Sweet dreams."

She smiled back at him in the darkness. "Thanks, you too."

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	5. We Used To Laugh, We Used To Hug

**Chapter Five:** We Used To Laugh, We Used To Hug

When Hermione left her room the next morning, she found George ambling by, rubbing at his shoulder. "Hey George," she greeted, realizing she hadn't taken the time to really talk to him the day before.

"Well, if it isn't the soon-to-be mother of my first niece or nephew," he teased as they made their way downstairs. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, but I'm still not used to sleeping in comfort to be honest. How about you?"

"With Fred in the bed? Ha, not in the slightest."

Hermione frowned. "I thought he said you two shared when you first came here."

"Yeah, and it was awful then. The only thing that made that bearable was that the bed was relatively big. I still can't believe I lost the bigger room to him. I just know he cheated, but I can't figure out how…"

"Wait," she shook her head in confusion. "If Fred's bed is bigger, then why didn't you two take it?"

George shrugged. "It's no big deal. I think Fred was worried you might fall out of bed or something so we gave you the bigger one."

"But that's not fair at all." She paused outside the entrance to the kitchen. "I'm going to go talk to him."

George began to protest but she ignored him, making her way back up the dark staircase as quickly as possible. She realized as she reached the next floor that she had no idea which room he was in, but her worry was short lived as she saw him leaving a room at the end of the hall.

"Hey Hermione. How are you?"

"Why didn't you take the bigger room?"

Fred blinked at her seemingly out of the blue question. "What?"

"I just left George, who's so sore he can't seem to stop rubbing at his shoulder. Why on earth would you do something so stupid?"

"Watch what you say now. That kid in there has my genes. An insult to me is an insult to him… or her." He smiled lazily and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly. Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

Fred shrugged. "I knew that you'd insist we take the bigger bed and I didn't want to do that to you. Honestly, George and I are fine… mostly," he amended as she raised her brow.

"Well too bad. We're switching rooms tonight."

"But what if something happens? The other bed is really small, I admit it. You could roll right off of it and that can't be good, can it?"

He looked so legitimately concerned that Hermione knew she couldn't force the issue. "Fine," she sighed, another solution occurring to her. "I suppose _we_ could share."

"What?"

"Fred, if we're close enough to make _this_ happen," she gestured to her stomach, "then I think we can share a bed. That way George isn't in pain for the next month and you can keep an eye on me if you're that concerned."

Fred shrugged with a laugh. "If you insist. As long as you don't snore I'm sure you'll make a much better bedmate. George is terrible about sharing a blanket."

"No, I don't snore, but I can't make any promises about the blanket."

He pretended to deliberate for a moment. "Deal."

* * *

They joined the family for breakfast downstairs and George literally whooped with joy when he heard he'd be getting his bed back. After stuffing themselves they retreated back upstairs to his reclaimed bedroom so that the twins could get to work sending out some orders.

The two worked relatively quickly while Hermione sat against the headboard, reading a dusty old book. Before she'd even realized any time had passed they were done, and incredibly bored. They both turned to her, obviously intent on including her in their next activity.

* * *

"George, that tickles!"

Hermione giggled as the paintbrush ran across the curve of her stomach. George had already drawn a smiley face with an old paint set he found in the attic, and was currently working on giving his creation a full head of Weasley red hair.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked, craning her neck to assess the red blob.

"You tell me," he grinned. He slid the brush to her bellybutton and she squealed, shoving his hand away.

"That is a good question," Fred mused. "You have to go back to Mungo's soon. Maybe we should find out."

"You think?"

"Why not? I mean, it's one less thing to worry about, right?"

"I suppose." She started to roll over and Fred quickly jumped onto the bed to stop her.

"You're covered in paint," he reminded her.

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Oh yeah. I guess I better go wash up. It's getting late anyway." She climbed off the bed and paused near the door. "Umm, Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I could borrow that shirt again?"

Fred rolled so that his head hung upside down over the edge of the mattress. "Sure."

She began to leave and he stopped her.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you not use magic when you're pregnant?"

She frowned. "No, I can use it just fine. Why?"

"Just wondering why you didn't try enlarging your clothes to make them fit."

Hermione blushed profusely and rolled her eyes. "Because… I'm thick. This child has zapped my brain cells and I, top student of my class, didn't think of it." She smiled and gave a small laugh. "I'm keeping your shirt anyway though. It's very comfortable."

He shrugged in acceptance and she turned away to make her way down the hall to the bathroom, somehow managing to successfully keep her own shirt clean. The paint stubbornly clung to her skin and took way too much soap to remove. By the time she was done the water was running cold. She dried and dressed quickly, eager to get into bed and under the covers.

She smiled shyly when she entered the bedroom, the realization that she would be sharing a bed with Fred again making her feel apprehensive. The last time she'd fallen asleep in his arms, the situation had been entirely different.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she slid into bed, fluffing the pillow beneath her head. Fred climbed in from the other side, giving the covers a quick tug. "No hogging, remember?" he reminded.

"I said no promises."

"Fine, but if you take all the covers I'm coming after them."

She let out a laugh, relieved that they were still able to joke with each other after everything that had happened.

* * *

When Hermione woke, sometime in the early morning before the sun had risen, two things were clear. For one, she _had _taken all of the blankets, and for another, Fred had indeed come looking for them. His arm was tossed casually across her chest, his head resting next to hers.

"Fred?" she whispered, hoping to wake him just enough to get him to move.

"Mmm?" came his barely conscious response.

"Fred, you have to move."

"No," he grumbled sleepily.

"No?"

"Uh-uh... I've missed you," he murmured, drawing himself up against her side.

"…Yeah?" She was surprised to hear him say such a thing even while half-asleep. He nodded, burying his face against her neck to kiss her there and her entire body stiffened in shock despite the odd feeling of warmth that seemed to pool in her stomach. He shifted and she realized he was starting to wake more fully.

"At first I thought I was just worried about the three of you and whatever it was you were doing, but then I realized you were the only one I was really thinking about," he whispered. "Kind of surprised me actually. I had wondered if you thought about me but I suppose I know the answer now." He slid his hand over to rest on her stomach, his palm moving in reverent circles.

"Fred..." she was absolutely floored by his confession and knew she had to give some sort of response but she didn't know what she could give. Nothing about anything had gone as she expected, least of all her relationship with him. There wasn't supposed to be a relationship to speak of.

It had started with a simple kiss on New Years Eve when neither had anyone else to turn to. He surprised her on the train back to Hogwarts days later with a loud kiss to her cheek but nothing more followed for months which oddly didn't bother her. That was Fred's way and she wasn't looking for anything more.

Another kiss to celebrate winning the house cup came at the end of the year, but again was followed by nothing. It became a repeated pattern of casual touches, occasional kisses, and one heavy snogging session in the dank gloominess of Grimmauld Place during the winter break of her fifth year. When he and George left Hogwarts months later she had assumed that was the end of whatever was between them. However when she arrived back on the platform at King's Cross at the end of term, still shaken from the events at the Ministry, he was there with the rest of the family, ready to welcome them home and to greet her with a subtle kiss to the cheek.

"Is that okay?" Fred's hand had ceased its movement over her stomach and he was looking at her with concern.

"Yeah," she nodded quickly, still feeling flustered. "It's fine. Thank you, I guess."

He rolled away from her, pulling the edge of the blanket with him. "Sorry," he muttered. "I really didn't mean to say anything like that."

"No, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting it," she reassured him, hoping he wasn't looking for her to return his feelings. Fred could be brilliantly sweet and there was no doubt something between them, but exploring those feelings was _not_ something she was looking to deal with at the moment.

"Just go back to sleep," he told her as if reading her mind. "Forget I said anything."

She wanted to offer something of significance, whether it be an explanation or even just a thanks for his understanding, but she could find no words to adequately express anything she felt. Instead she lay staring up at the ceiling until she heard his breathing even out and eventually she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	6. Think Of What I'd Be Losing

**Chapter Six**: Think Of What I'd Be Losing

Hermione passed her days in absolute boredom. She spent hours in George's bedroom where the twins continued to send out orders through their owl order business, looking at order sheets and playing with a deck of muggle playing cards from one of the magic kits they sold. When she tired of that she would wander to the kitchen to snack, watching Mrs. Weasley cook and listening to her as she told numerous stories about when her children when growing up. It was amazing to hear about the concerns she'd had and the mistakes she'd made when to Hermione she was the epitome of a natural born mother.

Fred and George were both wonderful about having her around, and she was grateful that Fred hadn't pushed her for a response to his sleep addled confession.

Overall life in Aunt Muriel's was peaceful, even if her thoughts often strayed to whether or not Harry and Ron were alright, or if they'd put their plan into action. She was sure she would have heard something if they had.

"Something bothering you, dear?"

Hermione looked up at Mrs. Weasley and quickly smiled. "No, it's nothing."

As she'd promised Harry, she hadn't told anyone about the horcruxes, nor the hallows. She'd spent so long openly discussing them though that it seemed impossible for her not to think about them and members of the family often found her staring off in thought.

"Everything will be fine," Mrs. Weasley assured her. "Just you wait. Once you have that baby in your arms, everything will click into place."

Mrs. Weasley _always_ assumed she was thinking about the baby or the pregnancy when she caught her in a haze. Aunt Muriel usually had far more crass ideas in her head and she often chose to share them when there were as many people as possible around. Hermione could handle pointlessly rude comments about how she must be worried about getting a baby past her skinny hips, but when she'd been accused of trying to figure out who of the _many, many, many_ men she'd no doubt shagged was the father, in front of nearly everyone in the house, she had burst into tears.

Many of the Weasley's extended family turned and whispered, a few even snickered at her expense, but both Fred and George jumped up to defend her honor while Mrs. Weasley walked her out to the sitting room, Mr. Weasley staying behind to keep his sons from hexing their great-aunt into oblivion while at the same time complaining about the comment. Hermione's sniffles were just subsiding when the twins came stumbling into the room, Muriel's crass voice shooting obscenities in their direction. Wordless they flanked her, each taking an arm to help her up and lead her out into the crisp spring air.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked, squatting to look at her in concern.

"Yeah," she nodded, putting on a smile. "That woman is awful. Usually I don't let her get to me but that…" She broke off, her voice trembling.

"No one believes anything like that Hermione." George gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I mean if Fred is your type then I'm sure I'd be the first to know of your oh-so-promiscuous ways."

Hermione let out a snort of a laugh, then clutched her stomach in pain. It felt like something had stabbed her, the immediate pain fading quickly but leaving a dull ache behind.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Fred asked, a small note of panic in his voice.

"No, something's wrong."

"Could it be one of those false contractions they told us about, or…?"

"No! Fred, something is wrong." She didn't know how she knew, she just did. Whether it was from the emotional stress of the evening or something completely random, there was something happening in her body that shouldn't. She felt herself crying, suddenly terrified of what could happen to her child.

"George, go tell Mum. I'm taking her to Mungo's."

Without waiting for a response Fred reached out to take hold of her elbow, enabling her to stand against him. The moment she was in his arms they were both rushing out into the fields until they could safely Apparate to London. He helped her through the display glass and rushed on ahead, panicked words tumbling from his mouth as he nearly slammed into the reception desk. "Help. My wife. Something's wrong. She's pregnant."

Hermione barely had a moment to process the words he had spoken before they were being ushered down the hall into the lifts.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, gripping her arm firmly. She nodded weakly, gritting her teeth as another rush of pain ran through her.

"I don't know what's wrong," she whimpered. She should have taken the time to read more. She should have asked Mrs. Weasley more questions. She'd been so stupid and stubborn and denied or ignored her pregnancy for far too long and now she was going to pay for it. They both were.

She and Fred followed the mediwitch into the maternity ward, Hermione doing her best to ignore the screams coming from one curtained off bed. Immediately she was lain down and Fred turned away while she changed into the hospital robe she'd been given.

The healers performed a number of tests, asked her to drink a variety of potions and whispered together in hushed voices. While the flashes of pain seemed to have subsided, the situation was doing nothing to ease her panic. Fred stood by her side, her hand held firmly in his. Neither of them spoke a word until finally the head Healer approached them.

"Is she okay?" Fred asked. It sounded almost as if he were on the verge of tears.

"Yes, but it's a good thing you came in. Miss Granger, you were in pre-term labor. We can't say what caused it as your test results were all normal and there seems to be no placental abruption, but we _were_ able to halt it. There's no guarantee that it won't happen again so you'll need to be on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy."

Hermione groaned and she heard Fred laugh behind her with relief and humor. She knew he was well aware with her frustration with being cooped up in his great-aunt's house. The last thing she needed was to be confined to a single bedroom.

"Is there anything else I can do?" she asked, knowing it was a bit late in the game to be proactive.

"Just continue to take care of yourself. When I say bed rest, I mean it. Eat well, get plenty of sleep and just relax. You're due in four weeks so take that time to prepare yourself. This is your first child, correct?"

Hermione nodded.

"We have some pamphlets and information that may help you. At the very least it will keep you occupied for the next month."

"I doubt it. She'll probably go through thirty books in that time," Fred joked and Hermione was more than grateful for his ability to lighten the tense atmosphere. She gave his hand a squeeze and got ready to go back to her temporary home.

* * *

By the time they got back to the Burrow, nearly everyone had gone to sleep. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in the kitchen with George, all with grave expressions on their faces until Hermione and Fred entered. In an instant all three were up and throwing questions at them.

"Everything is alright," Fred told them while firmly seating Hermione in one of the chairs. Mrs. Weasley immediately put the kettle on the stove and began fussing with cups for all of them. George sat beside her and placed his arm around her reassuringly while Fred explained everything to his father.

The tea was warm and soothing and for a brief moment it felt like they were all gathered in the Burrow, relaxing after an enjoyable meal. It was exactly the familiar reassurance Hermione needed to calm her nerves and restore her confidence.

The family sat and kept up a light chatter for an hour or so before finally separating to head to bed. Fred immediately sent Hermione to lie down, telling her that he would be on bed rest guard duty until she delivered and that she'd better behave, before disappearing to take a quick shower.

She smiled when he returned from the bathroom and began to put his clothes away. Biting down on her lip, she sighed before finally saying something.

"Fred, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, what is it?" He sat on the edge of the bed, smiling down at her.

"It's about what you said at St. Mungo's," she told him, hoping he would know what she was talking about and that she wouldn't need to offer any further explanation.

"Oh." His cheeks flushed red, his ears following suit. He definitely knew what she meant.

"Yeah." She felt heat rise to her own cheeks and stared down at her blanket.

"Well," he shifted from her noticeably, "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it."

"About _marrying_ me?" she squeaked out.

"Well, it is what most people would do in this situation."

"But Fred, were not _most_ people. You and me, were not..."

"Yeah, I know, but why not? We get on fine. I know you don't know how you feel but the more I think about it, the more I do. Hermione, I want to be with you. Not just for trips to St. Mungo's and changing nappies. _You and me_. I want that."

"I don't know..."

No matter how well they got along, she couldn't fathom the idea of marrying Fred Weasley. Her life had derailed enough as it was. Would pursuing a relationship with him only throw things off more? He was hardly husband material by the most basic standards. He was immature, even if he was handling the pregnancy far better than she'd expected. He had a successful business, but he made his money selling packaged chaos. She couldn't recall a single serious or long-term relationship he'd ever been in, and she wasn't sure if that made his interest in commitment to her more meaningful or less believable.

He shook her from her thoughts as he leant towards her suddenly, his lips brushing over hers in a ghost of a kiss and she was startled when she found herself pushing forward for more. He quickly complied, his mouth returning to hers for a searing kiss that left her breathless.

"Why does kissing you seem to come so easily?" she whispered, the question leaving her before her mind had even had time to process it.

He smiled against her lips. "Maybe it's because it's what you're supposed to be doing."

"Maybe you're right."

She'd kick herself for this once her mind cleared. Her hormones were interfering and she couldn't trust her thoughts when he was kissing her so tenderly, but for the moment she didn't care. She was too caught up in the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, his teeth grazing her jaw, the all consuming feeling of _Fred_ surrounding her.

She hummed pleasantly as he pulled back and she found herself dazzled by his relieved smile.

"I'm not asking you to marry me you know," he told her firmly. "Just, with you, it's something I'd consider eventually, if that counts for anything."

"It does," she nodded, giving his arm a squeeze before he climbed over her and settled in to bed.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	7. Just When I Think I'm Under Control

**Chapter Seven:** Just When I Think I'm Under Control

Things between Hermione and Fred changed very little after their late night discussion. Both of them knew that her pregnancy was a huge factor and that it wouldn't be right to pursue anything at least until she had delivered and they had everything else sorted out.

Everything else, it turned out, consisted of a huge list of things to contemplate. Having spent so much of her life over preparing for things, the stress of having so much to do in so little time kept getting to Hermione and Fred constantly had to remind her to stay calm, threatening to figure out everything on his own if she didn't relax.

The packets of information provided by St. Mungo's had indeed been a light read, but it at least gave her a starting point to get all of her planning done. Confined to their bed, Hermione spent hours looking over the pamphlets and brochures, making checklists and key notes over several sheets of parchment. Fred brought her each meal and occasional cups of tea but remained busy with George for much of the day. Not only did they have their business to attend to, but there were always whispered rumors making their way into the house. Hermione felt incredibly isolated, left out of the daily meetings in the kitchen to discuss the war, but she knew she had to put it out of her mind. Besides, Fred did his best to keep her updated and they had plenty of other things to discuss each night as they ate dinner together, sitting cross legged on the mattress.

"Do you suppose there's any kind of crib in this house?" she asked around a bite of green beans. Fred shrugged.

"I'd say I doubt it, but Aunt Muriel's got some really ancient stuff in here so there might be."

"If not, we'll have to work something out. There are still some shops open in Diagon Alley right? Maybe someone could buy one."

"Dad has some contacts that are still in the ministry. If it comes to it I'm sure we can get something. You've only got three weeks left so I guess we have to figure that out soon."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's a lot we have to figure out," she chided. "For one thing, we still don't have a name."

Fred frowned. On their last trip to St. Mungo's they had both agreed to find out the sex of the baby and it was of little surprise to learn they were having a boy. Having narrowed down the field of names to one sex had proved to be of little use however because they still couldn't agree on anything.

"What about Phinneus?" Hermione tried hopefully.

"What is it with you and the stuffy names? Why can't it be something nice and simple, like John or Mark?"

"But those names are so boring. Our son needs a strong name. Something with real meaning to it."

After waiting for a response that didn't come, Hermione looked up and found Fred grinning dopily at her. "What?"

"What you just said," he told her, still smiling. "_Our_ son."

"Oh." She smiled sheepishly and stared down at her plate.

Fred cleared his throat loudly. "Right, uh, how about Barny?" He laughed as she swung a pillow at him, narrowly avoiding sending his dinner to the floor.

"How about we give up on names for now and start thinking about godparents?"

* * *

In the week that followed, Hermione and Fred managed to work out as many details as possible, although they were still arguing about what to name their son. A crib had indeed been found in one of the third floor bedrooms, and the twins had moved it to the bedroom she and Fred were sharing. The aged wooden furniture was a constant reminder of what was soon coming and Hermione found herself both thrilled and terrified at the prospect.

Her feelings shifted completely to the side of terror however, when Fred and George came rushing into the room late at night on the first day of May. Word had just reached them that Harry and Ron were heading to Hogwarts to fight, and a general call to arms had been issued to the remaining members of the Order, as well as the DA.

Hermione struggled between her desire to go herself and help fight, and the feeling that if Fred went, he might never come back. She didn't think she could handle losing him and she could think of no fate worse for her child than for him to grow up without his father. She'd seen the pain Harry faced over the loss of his parents and she desperately hoped to avoid that for her son.

"Please, you can't go." She sounded selfish and whiny, her eyes burning as she clung to his arm. "Anything could happen, Fred. You could be killed. Hexed by a death eater or struck in the crossfire or something completely stupid and random like being crushed by a wall."

"Hermione I _have_ to go. Believe me, I want to stay, I do. But you'll be fine and we'll all be back soon. And when we do, we'll come back knowing that the world is that much safer for this little one." He stroked her stomach and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I know," she sniffed, tears flowing freely. "I just… If anything happens…"

Fred circled his arms around her and George hopped onto the bed, holding her from the opposite side.

"Promise you'll look after him, George?"

"I promise. No matter what, I won't leave his side Hermione."

She nodded and pushed them back reluctantly. "Go. I know they need you. Tell everyone I love them and that I'll be waiting here to see them _all_ come home."

Fred kissed her briefly and then both of them were leaving, past the bedroom door, down the stairs and out to face graver danger than either had seen before. Hermione drew her knees up, cradling her stomach, and cried until she could no more.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	8. Oh, What Do I Do?

**AN:** Holy crow, this fic now has 100 reviews! You guys are so awesome. Really, you have no idea what your comments and support means to me. Thank you. Homemade cookies for all!

* * *

**Chapter Eight:** Oh, What Do I Do?

Labor was indeed the most painful thing Hermione had ever experienced. The fact that it began while she was alone in her bedroom at Aunt Muriel's house while Fred and everyone else was gone fighting made it that much worse. She still had two weeks until her due date and she was terrified of what that meant for her son, but the war was in full swing and she couldn't risk trying to make it to St. Mungo's. With the luck she'd had thus far she thought she'd probably end up giving birth on the street with Death Eaters running all around her.

Not long after Fred and George had left her side she'd been aware of a fluttering of her stomach muscles. It had been a slight annoyance which she primarily slept through but now, hours later, the mild fluttering had progressed, the clenching coming stronger and closer together.

Hermione whimpered in frustration, laying back on the bed and panting heavily. She had to relax. Breathe slowly like Mrs. Weasley had shown her; deep, deliberate breaths in and out. She cried out as she was struck by a strong pain for the first time and swung out for the stack of papers sitting on the bedside table. What had the damned thing said about contractions?

She did her best to time the space between each pain but it was getting harder as the pain became worse. She had no idea how much time passed as she lay, gritting her teeth to fight the growing pang. All she knew was that there was no sign of anyone returning to the house any time soon and she was clearly having the baby now.

She pushed herself up and out of the bed, intending to remove her clothes and pull off some of the bed linens, but she was struck by another contraction which she wasn't prepared for. She screamed in both pain and frustration.

Out in the hall Hermione heard a loud crash and she froze, terrified. If something had happened to Mr. Weasley, the house's secret keeper, then Death Eaters could have found the house. Footsteps approached and she knew she had to hide but her mind was swimming and she couldn't figure out how to move or what to do. She watched helplessly as the door swung open.

"Stupid girl!"

Aunt Muriel bustled into the room with far more agility than Hermione ever could have expected. The elderly woman looked down at her and shook her head. "I just knew it with a scream like that. You young girls don't know what real pain is. You just wait until that kid is coming out of you."

"He_ is_ coming out of me," Hermione ground out through gritted teeth, still thrown by the realization that she wasn't entirely alone in the house.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you been feeling it?"

"I… I felt kind of funny for a few hours but it started to hurt about two hours ago."

"Two hours in and you think this is it?" Muriel laughed and gripped her arm firmly. "You've got a lot more to go girl, now come on. Get those clothes off and lay on your back."

Hermione gripped the hem of her shirt but hesitated, not sure she could handle any more of the old woman's insults.

"Now is not the time to be bashful! Clothes off. All of them!"

She complied, stripping down and laying on the bed once more. Another contraction hit and she clenched her fists in the sheets.

"Spread your legs."

Hermione goggled at the old witch, wondering if she'd heard her correctly.

"I said spread 'em. I can't see anything like this, so unless you want to do this on your own, I suggest you start listening."

She nodded and awkwardly parted her legs, looking away in embarrassment as Muriel leant down. She jumped when she felt the woman's fingers at her opening but she forced herself to remain still. There was no room for modesty, she reminded herself.

"Well you're right along, aren't you? I'm a bit surprised. Young ones like you usually take forever. I still say those hips will be a problem but at least it will be a quick birth. Now come with me."

Hermione struggled to sit up and follow Aunt Muriel out into the hall, leaning against the wall as she breathed through another contraction before catching up with her in the bathroom where water was running in the tub.

"It will be easier on you if you do this in warm water. Less stressful for the baby too. Come on, climb in. You still have a ways ahead of you and this will help."

She stepped carefully over the edge of the tub, sighing with relief as she settled down in the warm water. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her abdomen and the twinge of pain in her back began to settle. "How do you know all this?" she asked, letting her head rest back.

"I haven't always been_ old_ Great-Aunt Muriel you know. Was a Healer in my day."

"Really? I didn't know that." She let out a puff of air, trying to relax. "I… Thank you. I know you don't like me much, but I don't think I could handle this on my own."

Another clenching pain hit her and Muriel frowned. "They're coming faster now. Definitely a quick birth. I'd say you'll be done in a few hours."

"Hours?" Hermione groaned. Hadn't this already gone for hours? "I thought you said _quick_."

"Yes, now quit your whinging and just deal with it."

The minutes felt like hours, and the hours like days, as Hermione worked through contraction after contraction, each one longer and more intense than the last. Aunt Muriel stayed by her side, although her words of support strayed more towards the lines of "suck it up," and "grow a back bone," than Hermione would have liked.

She panted heavily, trying hard to control her breathing with little success. The pain was excruciating by the time she was given permission to push. Her body was weak and she couldn't even tell if her body was doing as she told it.

"Push you stupid girl, push!"

Hermione pushed with all her strength, feeling as if she were going to be sick. Her back was killing her, her head hurt and it felt like she wasn't getting anywhere.

"Almost there now," Muriel assured her, the old woman half soaked as she guided her along. "Another push or two and he'll be here."

"I'm bloody tired of push- Ah!" Another contraction hit and she bore down, gritting her teeth against the pain. Almost as soon as it subsided another one hit and she pushed again, tears running down her cheeks.

"That's it, we've got him!" Aunt Muriel turned, lifting the squirming pink mass from the water. After what felt like an eternal silence he drew in his first breath and his cries filled the air.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	9. I Wanna Hold You Close

**Chapter Nine:** I Wanna Hold You Close

Hermione was tucked into bed, making a rather futile attempt to feed her son when the bedroom door slammed open. Fred stood shell shocked in the doorway and she stared back at him, relief washing over her. He was okay. He made it back.

"Are you okay?" He ran to join her, falling to his knees at her bedside. "Aunt Muriel told us. I couldn't believe it. You…" He trailed off, staring at their son in awe. "Is that…"

Hermione smiled and shifted over to give Fred room to sit beside her. "Come here little boy." She lifted the fussy child and stroked his soft cheek before presenting him to Fred, who quicky climbed in next to her. "This is your Daddy."

Fred took the boy into his arms, smiling down with his eyes shining. "Hey there little guy. You came a little early, didn't you? You get that from your mother for sure."

Hermione smiled, letting her head rest on Fred's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered.

"Of course I am. George promised to bring me back, didn't he?"

"What about everyone else?" She was afraid to spoil the serene moment, but she had to know what kind of world her son had been born into.

"We won. No need to worry about anything else for now. Harry and Ron are okay, and the rest of the family will be here soon. I came back as soon as everything was over but there's a lot of clean up over there."

Hermione could tell there was information he was holding back on, but she was willing to let it wait. For the moment she just wanted to enjoy this peaceful time with Fred at her side, their child cuddled between them.

* * *

Hermione managed to get a bit of sleep before the rest of the Weasley family arrived. Fred met them all downstairs to tell them about the unexpected delivery and returned with Harry and Ron, explaining that they thought it might be better to stagger their visits.

Fred took their son from her arms and turned to the heroes of the wizarding world; her very best friends.

"Meet Ronald Harry Weasley," he beamed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to hide a snicker as Ron and Harry both gushed about what an honor it was to have the child named after them.

"He's joking," she laughed, watching both their faces fall. "His name is William Charles Granger."

Fred gave her a disgusted look. "I thought we decided on Frederick George."

Hermione laughed. "Because that wouldn't be confusing."

Ron and Harry looked on in confusion and Hermione finally took pity on them. "I'm sorry, really." She reached for her son, cradling him in her arms as Fred handed him to her.

"Nicholas, meet Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry."

The two boys gathered around her and the baby, Fred standing off to the side to give them room. She smiled at him gratefully and sighed in contentment.

"Nicholas?" Harry asked, staring at the tiny boy in awe.

"Yeah. Muriel said it means 'victory of the people.' We thought it was appropriate."

Ron smiled, reaching to touch his nephew's hand. "It's perfect." He turned to Fred, rubbing the back of his neck. "Congratulations. I… You're gonna be a great Dad, I know it. Despite everything, I just know you two will give him everything he deserves."

"Thanks." Fred pulled his younger brother into a tight embrace, letting him go abruptly when the bedroom door swung open, Mrs. Weasley bustling in with her husband right behind her. George followed behind, looking decidedly harried.

"I tried to get her to stop," he apologized.

"Oh, I just couldn't wait!" his mother gushed, quickly gathering her new grandson in her arms. "What a beautiful boy!"

Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Charlie and even Percy all stood at the door apprehensively and Hermione smiled.

"Oh just come in. The poor boy will have to get used to you lot anyway."

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for sticking with me through this whole story. I'm sorry this chapter was so short, but you'll get an epilogue after this and then I can finally check off that wonderful Complete box that's been taunting me. I hope you've enjoyed the story, and thank you again for all your thoughts and support.

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_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


	10. Epilogue

**AN:** Thank you again to all the people who read and reviewed this story as it progressed. What started out as a on shot took on a life of it's own and I'm more than happy to have seen it through to its conclusion. I hope you all enjoy the epilogue and in the meantime I'll be getting back to work on some other FW/HG fics before readers start kicking my arse for not updating : p

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Epilogue

"Mum! I can't find my wand! I think Fabian took it!"

"Nicholas, I'm sure you just left it sitting around somewhere again. Fabian has his own wand now." Hermione smiled as her son found his wand sticking out from under his bed. "You see, I told you. Now go find your brother and tell him breakfast is nearly done."

"Is it? I'm starved." Fred came up behind her, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"In that case you can plate everything up while I go check on the twins. I swear they've been feeding every half hour lately."

"Yes, well, they're growing boys. What do you expect?"

"I suppose. Oh, by the way, your mum owled. She's going to be at the station today to see 'all of her babies' off."

"Like we could keep her away," Fred laughed, moving a plate of toast to the table. "Go check on the hungry monsters and I'll make sure the kids eat. We've got the get going soon."

Hermione made her way up to the bedroom she shared with her husband, smiling at the recently added room on the second landing. Four kids and already their home was beginning to look as lopsided as the Burrow. She hoped sincerely that it would be the last addition, but she'd heard Fred commenting to George just the other day about how nice it would be to have a girl. The idea was oddly appealing until she heard the twins crying again.

Nicolas had been an easy baby; content to let anyone hold him, and he fed on such a rigid schedule that you could set a clock by it. Fabian had more of his father's personality and had woke them at all hours of the night, but at least he was generally a happy baby.

The twins, on the other hand, seemed to need constant attention from at least one parent, if not both. If either of them was discontent, they both made it very clear with their loud cries.

"Hush now," she shushed them, both boys quieting once they had their mother in the room. "I know you're hungry."

She picked them both up and managed to settle into the nearby rocking chair to begin feeding them. Downstairs she heard a loud crash, followed by the pounding of running feet. She didn't envy Fred at the moment.

"Mum!" Fabian came rushing in, half a small pancake held in his hand. "We have to go or we'll be late!"

"It's fine, sweetie. We have plenty of time."

"No! We have to go now! Nick says that all the good seats get taken real fast, and then all the first years get stuck sitting with goblins and trolls."

"Did he now?" Hermione adjusted her robes to stand, the twins understandably crying as their meal was cut short. "I can assure you that you don't have to worry about that, but we can leave early anyway, okay?"

"Really? Great!" He took off towards the direction of his bedroom, shouting for his brother along the way. With a shake of her head, Hermione followed.

* * *

Platform 9 ¾ was its usual bustle of activity that morning, with first year students clinging to their parents and older children racing to meet up with friends. Fred and Hermione stood with the twins, watching their elder son's race off to a pack of fourth years, their parents long forgotten at the sight of the red locomotive and all of the possibilities in store for the next year.

They were joined soon by Harry and Ginny who were laughing with amusement.

"Where are the kids?" Hermione questioned as they came up beside them.

"They're with Mum," Ginny answered. As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley bustled by with their children, making a beeline for Nicholas and Fabian who loudly protested as their grandmother fussed over them.

"Are we still on for lunch?" Harry asked.

"Definitely," Fred told him. "We'll be at the shop for the morning, making sure everything is fine for the day without me and George there."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They'll be fine without you two for a few hours. Honestly, it amazes me that you two still work so much."

"It's how we keep the business strong, love." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek which was interrupted my Mrs. Weasley's interest in cuddling her newest grandbabies.

George and Katie joined them not long after, arriving with Lupin and Tonks. Their children all gathered together, a mass of predominantly red hair, and bid goodbye to their parents before finally boarding the train.

* * *

Some hours later, Hermione collapsed into her seat at the Leaky Cauldron, Fred handing her the twins so he could stuff their nappy bag under the table before sitting. She sighed wearily, looking up at the sound of someone snorting.

"Something funny, Tonks?" she asked accusingly.

"No, nothing at all," the woman replied, though her cherry red hair was a clear sign of her mirth.

"Oh, just say it why don't you?" George teased from his seat next to his wife.

"What?" asked Harry. "That it's her own fault that she's the only one handling infants right now?"

"It certainly is not!" Hermione huffed. "It wasn't _my_ idea." She shot an accusing glare at Fred.

"Don't look at me love. I was this close," he held his fingers barely apart, "from having you alone to myself. Got another eleven years to wait for that chance again."

"Stupid bloody potion," she muttered, shaking her head. "Not that I don't love you both," she cooed to Sebastian and Andrew.

"Absolutely," Fred agreed, ticking their socked feet.

"There they go again," Ron mumbled. Fred glared at him while his twin gave their brother a quick smack to the head.

"You'll understand when you have your own," Hermione told him.

"No thanks. I have enough nieces and nephews to last a lifetime."

"Oh, but it's not the same," Remus told him sagely.

"Then why'd you stop at one?"

"Because he's too old," Tonks teased playfully. "He could barely keep up with Teddy. I'd hate to see how he'd do now."

"Take the twins for a week," Fred offered, running his fingers over Hermione's arm.

"Not on your life." She stuck her tongue at him, leaning into her husband. "I quite enjoy having the house to ourselves."

Fred sneered before looking down the table. "Any other takers?"

"Fred!" Hermione smacked his arm, careful to not jostle their children too much. "You're incorrigible. You know they're way too young to be away for long. Unless Fleur feels like breastfeeding them, you'll have to wait a while."

"Where are Bill and Fleur anyway?" Ginny asked.

"Bill couldn't get off work," George answered, "and Fleur said she'd never 'be so foolish as to bring an infant to a pub.' Her words, not mine."

"I don't think anyone's complaining," Ginny teased before either Hermione or Fred could get upset. "It's nice having us all together."

"Like the old DA," Harry mused. "Shame Neville couldn't come."

"The tragic life of a professor," George moaned.

"That's why we left school as soon as we could," Fred laughed.

"And a fine example you set," Hermione groused. "You know I heard Nicholas telling Teddy he plans to blow up poor McGonnagal's office this year and leave if he gets a single detention."

Fred frowned. "I'll talk to him."

Across the table George cracked an imaginary whip.

"You lot plan on ordering anything, or just taking up table space?" Tom called from the counter.

"Butterbeers all around for now," George hollered back. Their drinks came and they all ordered lunch quickly.

"Has anyone heard from Luna?" Hermione asked, passing Andrew to Fred so she had a free hand to drink.

"I heard she was in Romania," Ginny answered.

"No, she came home a few weeks ago," Ron corrected. All eyes turned to him and he blushed. "What?"

"I think there'll be more kids around sooner than we thought," Tonks laughed.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Ron grumbled, reaching for his plate as Tom approached. He took a large bite of his sandwich before anyone could ask any questions.

Hermione and Fred each took their plates, then sighed when the twins began to cry.

"I'll take them," Fred offered.

"No, they calm down faster with me. Plus you eat quicker."

He kissed her cheek, then shifted Andrew back into her arms. She immediately began to rock them, humming softy until they quieted somewhat.

"I'm sorry," she apologized to everyone. "I think we'll have to get them home soon."

Harry nodded. "Don't worry about it. We should get going soon anyway."

"Yes," Lupin agreed. "Have to make use of all of that alone time we all have."

Fred glared in his direction, swallowing his bite of roast chicken. "You're babysitting when you least expect it old man."

"I'll be sure the ward the house well."

Tonks rolled her eyes at her husband while Fred continued to shovel his food into his mouth. As soon as his plate was cleared, he reached for the twins who immediately began to fuss.

"Such mama's boys," he mumbled around the food he had yet to swallow.

"Oh, they're fine," Hermione assured him before taking a bite of salad. "Besides, if they cry now they'll wear themselves out and sleep at home." Fred's eyes lit with a mischievous gleam and she glared. "Don't you dare even _think_ about making them upset intentionally."

"I'd never, love. Just thinking of what we can do with that time."

Ron groaned. "Do we really need to hear about that?"

"No," Fred grinned.

"We could always talk about Luna Lovegood," George offered.

"Never mind."

Hermione finished her salad and stood, beginning to gather their things. "Thanks so much for suggesting this Harry. It really was nice to see everyone."

Harry nodded with a sheepish smile.

"Well, we're gonna head home," Fred sighed as he stood carefully. "I'll see you in the morning, George, and everyone else needs to stop by the shop more often."

"Will do," Lupin agreed. Tonks shot him a quick look. "Well, maybe."

They quickly said their goodbye's and headed out the back of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione held the boys while Fred tapped the third brick up. He took Sebastian while the wall opened.

"Do you want me to hold both of them?" Fred offered as they began to walk.

"No, it's nice like this," Hermione sighed, looking down at the child pressed against her chest. Fred was holding Sebastian similarly and it brought a smile to her lips. "I love you, you know that?"

"I had an inkling." He winked and leant over to kiss her cheek. "Love you too."

"Good." She shifted so that their arms pressed together while they walked. "I still can't believe it though."

"Believe what?"

"We've got two kids at Hogwarts, and another two at home. I used to think your mother was mad to raise so many children. To be honest there was a time I didn't think I'd ever have kids."

Fred's face faltered for only a moment. "Do you regret it?"

"No! Of course not!" She stopped to turn and face him. "Never in a million lifetimes. I love you, and I love our kids and the life we have together. It may not have come together in the most conventional manner, but I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world."

Fred smiled and bent to kiss her properly. "Ditto."

She snorted at his abrupt answer, then looked down at their boys. "Did you ever think we'd get to this point?"

"Of course. I knew it all along. You always were a bit slow on the uptake." He nudged her hip and began walking towards their street again.

"Is that right?" she laughed, catching up.

"Yeah, I'm always ahead."

"Hmm. In that case you can tell me what's in our immediate future?"

"Absolutely. You're gonna feed the twins while I make you a nice cup of tea. Then while they're sleeping, I'll give you a delightful foot massage. You'll remember how very attracted to me you are and drag me into a bubble bath that you swear is for relaxing when you have nefarious plans in mind."

"Nefarious?"

"Yes, indeed. You plan to have your wicked way with me in there."

"Hmm. And what are your thought on that?"

"Oh, I'm all for it, love."

They smiled at each other as they reached the house, passing through the wards and heading upstairs. On cue the boys began to cry and Hermione settled down to feed them.

"I'll go make that tea," Fred offered.

"Thanks. That sounds great... Oh, and Fred?"

He paused at their bedroom door and looked back.

"You can skip the foot massage, Just have that bath ready."

He wiggled his brows suggestively and left with a smile on his face. Hermione smiled after him, then gazed down serenely. There had been a time when a life with Fred sounded as far fetched as finding a centaur in a petting zoo, but now she couldn't imagine her life any other way. It was the one contingency she hadn't planned for that set her life down such an unlikely path, and for once she was glad things hadn't turned out as she planned.

* * *

_For fanfic writers, there are two things that bring them joy: the creation of their work, and the response of its readers. Please take the time to review, not only this fic but any other you read. Thank you._


End file.
